


Transfusion

by Starofwinter



Category: Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Gen, Killer is self-sacrificial, Major Character Injury, Needles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-24
Updated: 2017-09-24
Packaged: 2019-01-05 01:12:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 550
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12179997
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Starofwinter/pseuds/Starofwinter
Summary: Prompt: “There’s so much blood, you won’t last.”





	Transfusion

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ActualWritesThings](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ActualWritesThings/gifts).



> Patches and Trick belong to ActualWritesThings, who requested this prompt!

Killer’s hands are steady as he examines Patches’ wound.  The piece of durasteel had gone through his thigh, hard and sharp enough to punch right through the plastoid and nanoprene of his kit, keeping him suspended until Killer had lifted him off - it had worsened the bleeding, but… in the end, it would do more damage for him to stay there.  

Killer tries to tourniquet Patches’ thigh; it doesn’t stop the bleeding, but it slows it a little.  “The bleeding won’t stop, I’ll have to try something else.”  He turns, pulling out a hypo of painkiller and supplies from his pack to set up an emergency transfusion.

Patches moans in pain as he pushes himself up on his elbows.  “Killer,  _ no _ .  There’s too much blood, you won’t last till they can dig us out.”  He tries to reach over to pull the pack away, but it jostles his leg and he curses.

“Don’t worry about that.”  He pins Patches, half-kneeling on his chest to swab the inside of his arm and press the needle into his vein - he’s stronger than he looks, and Patches is in too much pain to fight it.  Killer jabs the other end of the line into his own arm, hissing softly before taping it in place.

“Killer, what the fuck are you doing, it’s going to  _ kill you _ , kriffing idiot.”  Patches shoves himself up, reaching for the line.  The sound of a blaster powering up stops him.  

Killer’s hand trembles a little as it wraps around the pistol, keeping it aimed at the other medic’s chest.  “Lay back down,” he orders, his voice quiet as ever and shaking, “And don’t touch that needle.”

“I’m not letting you die-”

“Do it,  _ now _ .”  His finger tightens just a little on the trigger, and Patches drops back down.  He feels a little stronger already, despite the pain, and he knows it’s because that life is draining out of Killer.  

Killer leans against the stone at his back, keeping his blaster trained on Patches as he relaxes a little.  “You’ve got your squad to get back to,” he says, his voice already getting tired, “They’re gonna find you-”

“Find  _ us _ , they’re going to find  _ us _ , don’t you even think about leaving me.”  Patches can’t lose Killer, he’s supposed to protect him - even if he only promised it to  _ himself _ , it was a promise.  He can feel the painkillers starting to take effect, and everything starts to get hazy; he couldn’t move if he wanted to.

Killer just smiles and rests his head back, breathing slowly.  “Yeah, Patches, I’m staying right here.”  His voice is a little slurred, and Patches curses.

“Stay with me,” he orders, trying to fight the drugged sluggishness, but he can’t.  All he can do is lay back and watch as Killer’s life drains into himself.  His throat closes up, and he can feel dampness on his cheeks as his eyes close.  “Kriffing self-sacrificial di’kut.”

* * *

The next time he opens his eyes, he’s surrounded by the bustle of a post-battle medbay, and he tries to push himself up.  “Killer?”

Trick’s hand is on his chest in a moment, holding him down.  “He’s okay, he’s fine.  You both lost a lot of blood, but he’s okay.”  He rests his hand over Patches’, squeezing lightly.  “You both are.”


End file.
